


Winter

by ImperiusRex



Series: Quicksilver Week 2020 [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood Of Evil Mutants, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mastermind, Murder, Toad - Freeform, Winter, so i wrote this thinking it was going to be a nice happy story and and as usual i made it sad, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperiusRex/pseuds/ImperiusRex
Summary: Pietro Maximoff recalls stories his father, Django Maximoff, told him as a child. Pietro deals with an assassin and Magneto's emotional manipulation of the twins continue with the latest attack.
Relationships: Django Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff
Series: Quicksilver Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801807
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

> The story “Winter” that Django tells Pietro was and actual folktale recorded by Frances Hindes Groome in 1899 with a collection of Romani stories, parts of the story were embellished by me for more details.

Day One - The Past

The young Romani boy is awakened by a tremendous sound, jerking up in his bed he whips his head around quickly, snow white locks move like a blur before settling over his eyes. His chest moves with rapid breaths as he clutches his covers. Beside him his sister lay sleeping, her rest unaffected. He glances over at his parent’s bed and sees only his mother asleep there, her curls decorates the empty pillow where his father should have been. All inside his family’s home is undisturbed but the howling sound of the wind against the walls of their home is loud enough that Pietro knows he will not go back to sleep. He slips out of his bed, already seven years old and growing tall, his father says he will soon reach the ceiling if he doesn’t stop. His bare feet pad against old hardwood, out of the single bedroom into the main living area, it had a small kitchen attached but the stove was a wood burning one. It’s cast iron was as old as the house. The Maximoff family had moved here with the rest of their clan to live for the winter, the cabin was in poor shape but better than being on the road when the snows came. The deal with the owner meant that they worked his lands during the harvest for a place to live in Winter since they could not afford the rent, and many of Pietro’s people had done the same. They would move again when spring came.

Pietro breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Django sitting in a low wooden chair before the stove, feeding some logs into the opening and leaving the door open so that it acted as a fireplace, warming the house. He is swift on silent feet as he approaches but his father hears him anyways, half turning in his chair with a warm smile on his face.

“Ah did the storm’s song wake you my boy?”

Pietro nods, and allows himself to be enveloped in his father’s arms. Django places Pietro on his knee and turns back to the fire, the heat warms Pietro as he stares at the crackling logs. Another great howling of wind and the noise of hail hitting the roof almost makes Pietro jump out of his father’s arms. This time the house shook and the cracks in the walls whistled as the wind blew hard. 

In a soft voice Pietro whispered, “What if the house falls down? It’s shaking.”

Django laughs, “The house is not shaking my son, it is dancing, for the storm is putting on quite a performance for us.”

Pietro is not comforted by this and Django rubs his back as he thinks on how best to comfort his son. Djoango then stands up, and snags Marya’s shawl from a nearby table, wrapping his son in the scarlet fabric he sets Pietro down to sit in his place as Django turns back to put some more wood into the oven. He takes up his son again and settles down, and they both watch the fire for a time.

“I hate the winter and the cold, I can’t run outside and play like in the summer.” Pietro complains, he wishes it were spring already, the long winter days were hard on a boy with his energy. He wished they were in their mobile home, moving from place to place rather than stuck here.

“There are those who wait for Winter and welcome the tidings it brings.”

‘What good things come from winter father? All it brings is snow and ice.”

“I once knew of an old couple…”

Pietro recognizes the tone of his father’s voice, it was a deep soothing voice that could conjure up the most wild tales, stories of dragons and princes, ladies who were clever and boys who went on adventures. He forgets the storm as his father speaks.

“They had no children and were very poor, the old man worked hard to save up their money for winter. One day as he was out working there was a knock on the door, the old woman went to answer it to find an old beggar man. He pleaded with her for help for if he did not have any he would surely perish in the next snowfall. She asked the old man his name and he only said that it was ‘Winter’, hearing this the old woman cried “Oh but my husband has been saving money for you.” She then retrieves the small bag of money that was all they had left in the world and gives it to Winter. He thanks her for her generosity then tells her to take her door and camp out on the branches of a tree near their home come nightfall. When the old man returned home he was dismayed to find his wife had given away their savings but he went with her that night to sleep in the tree. Some hours after midnight, when the night was at its coldest, and the wind was beginning to pick up strength, the couple awakened in the tree branches where they had been sleeping, the door rested beside them. The voices that had distrubed them continued to speak. It soon became clear that a group of three men below were robbers who had chosen that spot to split their spoils. They spoke about the house they had passed, upset they had found nothing worth stealing inside even though the door was missing. The old man and woman were frightened that they would find them in the tree and do them harm, so they stayed silent. The thieves argued over the other riches they had taken earlier and how best to separate it. One man argues that they must make change for a fair split but another replies that the first would have to go to the devil if he wanted change. At that moment the wind shook the tree and the door fell down with a mighty crash. The robbers frighten and flee, believing it was the devil come to take his due, their footprints left tracks in the snow that is hidden by the snow that had begun to fall. In the early light of day as the sun weakly rose over the ground the couple carefully climbed down. At the base of the tree the husband finds a large bag of jewels and money, enough to last the rest of their lives without ever having to work again. So he and his good wife take up the reward and return back to their cottage where they lived happily for the rest of their days.”

Pietro feels soft and warm against his father’s chest, listening as Django’s deep voice rumbled against his, and his eyes felt heavy so he closed them for a little while, just a little while.

* * *

His eyes felt heavy and it was hard to open them, cold cuts his skin. He hears Wanda screaming. Pietro tried to take in a deep breath but his every breath filled his lungs with water. The assassin was strong and the heavy weight above him made him panic; he thrashes under the water. Suddenly the weight is released and he throws his head back, water flies in an arch above his head as his white hair plasters itself to his skull, he falls to the floor of the bathroom besides the tub and throws up water on the tiles, gasping for breath and feeling very sick. The blood from the wound on his head runs freely and he feels dazed and disoriented. Wanda is next to him still screaming but his ears are full of water and everything sounds distant. She hugs him tightly and her embrace warms him, it calms him down enough to slowly focus on what was going on and to realize he was not in a cottage with his father telling him stories.

Several months ago Pietro had joined the Brotherhood with Wanda after Magneto had saved them from angry villagers who wanted to kill his sister. The team had moved from place to place, Magneto’s paranoia kept them going, and now it looked like his paranoia was justified as Pietro stared at the would-be assassin claw at his neck where a metal pipe was slowly squeezing to cut off his air. It was late in the evening when Pietro had entered the bathroom to bathe but as he was getting his shirt off he had been attacked, his head slammed into the sink then his body dragged over to the water filled tub. The knock on his head had left him dazed and unable to properly respond then it was too late as the assassin tried to drown him. 

Now he watches as Magneto stands in the doorway, his fingers twisting as the masked assassin contorts on the floor trying to speak, to free himself, his eyes plead with Magneto but the Master of Magnetism stands silent in a terrible coldness that seemed to wrap around him like his cloak. Wanda is quiet now as she and Pietro watch the man slowly suffocate to death in front of them, she makes a small noise to protest the killing but Pietro’s shaking hand covers hers and squeezes tight, something tells him it is not wise to attract Magneto’s attention at the moment, this was a lesson to them. To show them that Magneto would not tolerate anyone attempting to kill mutants. Their eyes are wide as the teenagers watch. The moment feels like it stretches on to eternity, finally the last breath, the light in his eyes, goes out and the man is limp on the floor. Magneto looks down at the corpse for a moment before he turns his gaze to the twins. Pietro’s heart pounds wildly in his chest and it takes every inch of willpower he has not to gather Wanda into his arms and run as fast as he could.

“An assassin. My enemy Xavier will stop at nothing to bring me down, and now he must know that you work with me. More will come so you will have to be vigilant. Do not hesitate. Do not show them mercy.” Magneto’s tone is deep and it fills the quiet bathroom but unlike his father Django’s voice Pietro is not comforted by it. Magneto watches them to see what their reaction will be but the twins only nod.

_Lesson learned._

Magneto turns and leaves them calling out for Toad and Mastermind to come and take care of disposing the body, then calls back for the twins to pack. They were moving again. Wanda is fussing over Pietro’s wound but he takes her hand and looks her in her bright eyes giving her a quiet look, he wants to tell her he is ok but his throat hurts from the water, but she is his twin and she knows what he means. They have spent sixteen years learning each other’s micro expressions and she agrees with him; _They were not safe here._

A short time later they step out into the snow, bags packed, wrapped up in their warmest clothes, with Magneto now in normal garb they look like a family who was just leaving their winter cabin and a skinning vacation rather than a group of Mutant rebels. Mastermind and Toad are already waiting in the car, an expensive SUV, Magneto gets in the passenger seat Wanda sits in the chair behind the driver’s side, while MasterMind sits in the third row along with Toad. Pietro slams down the trunk door and his boots crunch in the snow as he makes his way to the driver’s side. His eyes land on a pile of disturbed snow under a large tree not far from the cabin. The only marker of a soon to be forgotten grave.

Getting into the driver’s side he starts the car and drives off. The safe refuge the Brotherhood had in the Alps had been their main base but they traveled around the surrounding countries to find other mutants to join their cause with no luck. Magneto said they would take a private plane soon but like the car, the cabin, and everything else they have Quicksilver doesn’t question Magneto about where the money comes from. As the snow falls he navigates the roads while he keeps an eye on Wanda in the rearview mirror. Pietro turns the heat on in the car but he can’t get warm enough. The memory of being safe and warm in winter, wrapped in his father’s arms, makes him miss his parents even more. So many years have passed since their deaths and Pietro wonders if he will ever stop missing them.

“I hate winter.” Magneto says as he looks outside of the car window, no one replies. Magneto had once told him he lost his wife in winter. She had run away from people trying to kill them after they had already murdered their daughter. He had tried looking for her after he had brought his vengeance down on the murderers, following her footprints in the snow, but a storm had come up and he had lost her to it. “We will go to Santo Marco.”

Pietro only nods, and locks eyes with Wanda. It was a long way to Santo Marco, and no one knew what Winter might yet bring.

**Author's Note:**

> I had meant for this story to be only about Django and Pietro but I thought to add in some of the Brotherhood and a peek at how Magneto used to send assassins to test the twins, Pietro and Wanda never knew that Magneto ordered them not to be killed and so it was very traumatic for them. Still I always thought that once Magneto had used an assassin to terrify the twins into compliance he would not have kept them around in case the assassin might betray him or even inform the twins of what was going on later.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
